


Jaime on Tarth

by Coraleeveritas



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, F/M, Fluff, Post - A Dance With Dragons, Post canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 06:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12292797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coraleeveritas/pseuds/Coraleeveritas
Summary: The Braime Bunch. You’ve got to give fans what they want, right? So it’s got to be a Braime sitcom. They finally get together. Seven kids. They just can’t stop themselves once they get into it. - Nikolaj Coster-Waldau





	Jaime on Tarth

**Author's Note:**

> This came about quite coincidentally but after speaking with Sandwiches, who helped me find the right ending for this story, the pair of us would like to think there 'Jaime on Tarth' and her story 'The Tent' are set in the same universe. Because of this, I'd like to ask you to go and read that one first before you come back to the fluff here.
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/11923176
> 
> Prompted from one of NCW's interviews, anything you recognise isn't mine :)
> 
> Thank you for another amazing JB Appreciation Week! I still have some amazing stories to read and a lot of things to catch up on but it's certainly been a crazy amount of fun from what I've seen so far!

Tarth was everything that had been promised and more. As beautiful as the tales and still wild with life, despite the winter wars that had decimated so much of the mainland. There was a sense of settled safety on the island, especially now that the Evenstar was back in the seat of her forefathers after many years away following the orders of others. Battled scarred though she may have been, she ruled the people with all the strength and kindness the songs promised, bringing with her the lessons she'd learned during her time serving noble houses that had crumbled away to words in Maester Samwell's history books. Stark, Baratheon, Lannister, they had all pushed for power only to fall one by one before the time came for the walkers to rise from their icy graves and march south.

The one handed knight remembered it well. A time before the red dawn. A time before warm beds and sparkling, sapphire blue waters and a seat at the Evenstar's side. A time before oaths sworn on swords and military convenience turned into desperate consummation. A time before he was of Tarth.

The people still found time to whisper about him. He would never be free from that particular perk of nobility, but the talk now tended towards rumours of his heroics in the far north rather than the malevolent act that had long dubbed him 'Kingslayer.' He didn't miss the fear or contempt it had brought him, the surprising change in attitude giving their life on the island a dreamlike quality that could still make him feel like he was sleepwalking through his assigned duties from time to time. He often found it hard to believe.

There were other duties, however, duties that involved closed chamber doors and a warm, eager wife who insisted he spend every night at her side, that he had no trouble focusing on through to completion. In the early hours of the morning, safe and sated and wrapped in the strong arms of the woman he loved, he often found himself wondering how long they could have been happy if they'd only just accepted their growing feelings earlier. But she was a stubborn beast, loyal to those she was sworn to, and he'd been no better, locked in service to another and hiding his denied affections in gifts of armour and squires and priceless weaponry. After they'd repaired all the damage the Targaryen pretender had done to their island, they had hung their paired swords, Oathkeeper and Beauty, on the wall of Evenfall Hall as a reminder of the journey that had brought them together and the love that now flowed freely through their home.

Though if he'd known that ten or so years later, that love would mean frequent sleepless nights, as much blood and shit and vomit as a battlefield and having to diffuse minor skirmishes over property, then Jaime of House Tarth, formerly of House Lannister, may have doubted his own reasoning for bringing a fifth, and sixth and seventh, child into this new world being formed around them all. He had never really known if Brienne wanted children. There hadn't been many opportunities to discuss a future beyond the day to day struggle to survive. Yet, careful as they had been, a babe had just started to quicken when dark turned to dawn.

So after what they had lived through, it came as a great surprise to discover that Brienne wanted to try and fill the halls of her childhood home with the sound of children of their own, and he hadn't minded finding himself in her over and over again.

He'd done his best to support her, the brightest Evenstar in generations according to one of their visitors from across the narrow sea, through each pregnancy with a sense of fear and resolve, promising to hunt down any of the Seven who dared to take her away from him before they had a chance to watch their children grow. The midwives may have been put out by the non-traditional arrangement but Brienne insisted Jaime be present during each labour and that he be allowed to protectively cradle each babe as soon as Maester Samwell deemed them healthy.

And now with each grazed knee or running nose he got to spend a little more time with one of his children, a little more time doing what his father had so quickly handed off to servants, and despite the mess and the noise that came with having such a large family, Jaime found he didn't really want to change a thing. He liked being a father, a real father involved in the day to day lives of his and Brienne's children. He enjoyed listening to Duncan, their first born, spinning stories at supper time from his day squiring for the master at arms, Brienne having to promise Alannys, their eldest daughter, that she could do the same after her next name day before the siblings were at each other's throats again. Some days, the days where they weren't barricading hallways and threatening each other with tourney swords, Jaime was glad they'd both inherited the competitive spirit that he shared with Brienne, constantly trying to prove they were faster, stronger, smarter than the rest of the children on the island, rather than any of the more unsavoury Lannister family traits.

That night, as he did his final sweep of one half of the keep before meeting Brienne somewhere in the middle, he could hear Duncan and Alannys arguing loudly from their respective beds about who they'd recruit for their own personal Kingsguard.

"I don't know why you want The Hound," came the defiant voice of a girl locked in the fiercest of battles. Jaime had to fight to hide his smile. "Mother beat The Hound. Everyone knows that."

"And everyone knows that The Hound killed an ice spider and an ice dragon. He was the among the bravest warriors during The Long Night."

"Okay," she replied, the word dripping with disbelief. "But I want Mother and Father and Arya Stark."

"You can't have Arya Stark. She wasn't sworn to a king or queen, even a self declared one."

"That wasn't in the rules and you know it! You said any fighter!" Alannys declared just as Jaime pushed open the door to her chamber, raising a finger to his lips. Sparing a glance to the figure of her sister, still sound asleep, in the bed next to her, he let out a quiet sigh of relief. Out of all their children, Myranda was the one most like Brienne, sweet and kind and stubborn but was beginning to develop the uncanny ability to sleep through everything but the Seven Hells being unleashed.

"I didn't think you'd pick all of Mother and Father's friends!"

"Arya Stark was never a friend," Jaime commented, stepping across the corridor to check in on Duncan and Gerald, the nursery overflowing before the younger boy had been moved in with his brother. "Your mother trained with her but she never liked me much."

"Why?" Gerald asked, rubbing the sleep from his big, blue eyes. He'd been Brienne's shadow from the moment he could walk, following her to council meetings and visits with smallfolk alike, wanting to learn all he could about the world. He would have been Tyrion's favourite, Jaime thought sadly, missing his own little brother a little less with each passing day but never forgetting the pain that loss had come with.

"I was fighting for the other side for a long time," Jaime explained gently, watching his son nod as if in understanding. If Duncan was the commander and Alannys the adventurer then Gerald would be the politician, destined to look after Tarth long after he and Brienne were gone.

"And then Mother changed your mind?"

"In a way, yes. There was also a dragon."

Duncan pulled a face, the light freckling over the bridge of his nose becoming more prominent as his nose crinkled in bewilderment. "Ser Bronn likes to tell that story when we go out riding with Ser Podrick and Mother isn't scarier than a dragon."

"No, but being that scared made me realise how much I loved her."

The boys shared the same look they got whenever their parents exchanged affectionate touches in public. "Why wouldn't you want to be on the side that has the dragons?"

"For many reasons," Jaime said, inwardly cursing the mouthy sellsword, hoping that Pod attempted to keep him in check when it came to the numerous exploits that were unfit for an eleven year old's ears. "Nothing good comes from trying to train a wild thing."

"We trained the dogs," Alannys told him, having silently crept out of bed to wrap her hand around his shortened arm, clearly feeling left out now that a story was in the offing. "They're good."

"They weren't really wild to begin with though, sweetling. If you could chose, you wouldn't really want to share your chamber with a dragon instead of your sister, would you?"

She carefully considered the conundrum. "I don't think it would fit. Maybe we could have a baby one for not very long?"

"You'd have to check with your mother first," Jaime smiled down at his daughter as she yawned loudly, her brothers unable to stop copying the action, following in quick succession. "Alright, let's get you three settled down again. We have visitors tomorrow and you don't want to be falling asleep in your breakfast."

A chorus of grumbles and promises rose up, asking for another few moments, another story, another hug, pushing the timing of Jaime's regular walkabout further into the darkest hours of the night. It was strangely pleasant to have them all want his attention at the same time, his soldiers had been so self reliant and _obedient_ , though his reputation had far proceeded him, that he'd never felt truly wanted before Brienne and the cubs. She was likely having the same issues with the little ones, and, if not, he knew she would always wait for him. She waited with him at the Fist of the First Men, after the brothers in black told her there was no hope, after all.

After one final round of delaying tactics, Gerald being made to swear that he wouldn't sneak out later and relight the candles so he could keep reading, Jaime gently pulled both doors closed and crept away as quietly as he could. He'd like to let them slumber for as long as possible but they would be at the crack of dawn tomorrow anyway, Alannys especially eager to meet the Lady of Bear Island.

The castle was quiet at this time of night and Jaime only passed the castellan and a couple of kitchen staff as he completed his habitual security sweep, climbing into bed with Brienne always at the back of his mind even as he considered how much the visit by the remaining Northmen would deplete their most recent harvest. Tarth had renegotiated good trade routes with a handful of ports in Essos but some things he'd once taken for granted remained a rarity. There was no great sacrifice occasionally forgoing bacon or milk when they had eggs and oranges and all the fish they wanted. He and Brienne had come so close to starving to death at the end of the world, before the Blackfish arrived with a wave of hope and reinforcements, that Jaime now appreciated each plate of food set down in front of him. The children disagreed though. They liked everything apart from what was good for them.

Smiling to himself as he rounded the final corner before reaching his own bedchamber, Jaime came across Brienne in as close to a moment of peaceful solitude as he'd seen for a long time, singing softly to the smallest of their pride who lay sleeping in her arms.

"I sang that to you once upon a time," he purred as he quickly closed the distance between them, forgoing a traditional welcome to greet his wife with a full and lingering kiss, her hand instinctively rising to soothingly stroke the short hairs at the nape of his neck. "Do you remember that, my love?"

"Are you asking..." she murmured against his lips as Jaime slid an arm around her waist, the other smoothly taking the baby without making a sound. Lyonel still preferred his father putting him down for naps, holding on to the tight bond that had formed following his too early birth when Jaime refused to leave him on his own.

"If I remember..." Brienne went on, exchanging one kiss for another, "our first night together?"

"Well," he smiled, trying to enjoy another one of his favourite parts of the day. "It's not like there wasn't anything else going on and none of us are getting any younger."

"Jaime," she replied, her voice rising no louder than a reassuring whisper. "You're going to be waiting for a very long time indeed if you think I'm going to forget how warm you kept me in the winter. Or how-"

He had thought her all too easy blushes were almost as much a thing of the past as warring kings and queens, though that hadn't stopped him searching for the exact trigger, but as the crimson colour rose triumphantly along her cheekbones at the mention of what they'd created beneath a sea of fur, Jaime shuffled forward until he could nuzzle into the heat rising from her skin. "I was a fool to wait so long to-"

"Will you let me finish?" she asked, interrupting his murmurings though there was no spite or malice in her tone. Knowing how difficult it could be for Brienne to express her feelings in words, he pressed a quick kiss to her burning cheek and allowed himself to be guided back to sit in the chair she had placed outside their room many moons ago. Her intention had been not to wake him during the night when a baby needed feeding, but Jaime hadn't quite lost all of his soldiers reflexes yet and if she was awake, then generally so was he.

"Go on then, my love," he gazed up and up at her, letting Lyonel roll and snuffle into a more comfortable position against his chest. "Tell me how wonderful I am."

Her tongue darted out to dampen the kiss plumped surface of her lips, still unaware of how that tiny gesture could affect him, eyes narrowing to accept the unintentional challenge he'd thrown out. "Like you need to hear how much I..." Brienne scoffed, trailing off as she caught sight of him gazing up at her expectantly. "Are you alright?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Jaime," she replied, her forehead creasing ever so slightly. "Is...is there anything else...?"

"Well," he drawled, letting her take the baby as he rose to his feet, immediately wrapping the pair of them up in his arms, running his nose along Brienne's ruined cheek as he switched from looking into her clear, blue eyes and the soft blond curls of their sweet little boy. "If you're not going to go into detail about how wonderful I am, let me tell you how wonderful you are. How wonderful our home is. Our beautiful, noisy family. Our lives."

He could feel her smile start to spark despite the yawn that gently tugged at her scars. "Why don't you tell me that bedtime story again, my love?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
